


The Talk

by ElenaCee



Series: Devil's Trap [17]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Feels, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-23 01:44:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13179732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElenaCee/pseuds/ElenaCee
Summary: Chloe receives a vision from Dad.





	The Talk

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short ficlet about an idea that wouldn't leave me alone. Hope you like it.  
> As always, thanks so much for all your kudos, comments, and bookmarks. You guys rock! <3

She opened her eyes. Sunlight struck her face, and she realized that she was standing on the sidewalk of an unfamiliar street.

_ Where am I? _

Looking around, she didn’t recognize the neighborhood; small family homes with front lawns and carports next to them, all very suburban. The cars in the street looked very modern. Surprisingly modern.

_ How did I get here? What happened? _

Before she could move or do anything really, the front door of the house opposite opened, and Chloe experienced a moment of disconnect.

That was her at the door.

Same face, same hair; her clothes were unfamiliar and unlike anything she owned, but that was undoubtedly Chloe Decker.

She took a step forward towards her doppelgänger, or tried to, because even though she moved, she could not feel her feet. Looking down, she realized that she didn’t have a body.

_ A dream, then. _

An unusually clear, very vivid dream, and that was not the only thing that felt strange about it. She had never seen herself in her dream before. Normally, she was an actor in her dreams, not a spectator.

That was when she noticed the figure standing on her side of the street, a little distance away. Lucifer. She’d recognize him anywhere, just by the way he held himself, by the soft sounds of his breathing. He, too, was looking at the Chloe in the doorway.

He seemed… off. His hair was in slight but noticeable disarray; his suit - also an unusual style, one she’d never seen on him before - looked less than pristine, like he had been wearing it for several days in a row, which he normally never did. But the greatest shock was seeing his face.

Pale, gaunt, eyes black-rimmed, as if his angel glamour had not quite managed to cover the dark skin of his hell form on his lids. And the expression in his eyes was one of despair.

The sight struck Chloe deep. He looked lost, broken. Like he hadn’t been touched with tenderness in a long time.

The need to comfort him was like a living thing in her guts.  _ Lucifer,  _ she said, taking a step towards him and raising her --

She did not have hands, and she couldn’t hear her own voice. It was like she was deaf to it, while every other sound remained audible.

Lucifer didn’t notice her, fully focused on the woman across the street. Then he made a small, strangled noise.

Following his gaze, Chloe could see what had upset him. There was a strange man standing next to the Chloe in the house, embracing her, kissing her briefly but with familiarity, before leaving for the carport.

That Chloe was clearly married, and not to Lucifer. Chloe decided that she didn’t like this dream, not at all.

_ Lucifer, _ she tried again, but no sound emerged. It’s not real, she wanted to tell him. It’s just a dream.

Her dream self, meanwhile, was looking at the man walking away from her with a fond smile, like a woman in love and happy with her place in life. Then she noticed the Devil hovering on the sidewalk across the street, and her expression darkened.

“Chloe, please,” Lucifer said. His voice sounded gravelly, like he’d smoked too much, or like he’d been screaming.

Chloe, too, looked at her dream self.  _ I don’t know what’s going on, _ she wanted to say to her,  _ but please, for God’s sake, talk to him. Don’t you see what state he’s in? _

But her dream self stared at him implacably. “Go away,” she said coldly. “Which part of ‘I don’t ever want to see you again’ don’t you get?”

Chloe could practically see the words hit him, could even hear him make a small gasp of literal pain.

_ No! _ She shouted at her dream self ineffectually.  _ Don’t do this to him! You’re wounding him! You know better than this! _

But the door closed with finality, her dream self shutting Lucifer out of her life.

Chloe turned to him, wanting so bad to hold him, to comfort him, but before she could move, the scene changed, and she found herself at Lux, surrounded by people and a throbbing bass sound.

Lux had changed, too. The decor was different; Chloe didn’t recognize any of the bartenders. The club-goers were wearing a sort of fashion she had never seen before.

_ This is decades later,  _ she realized with a start. Okay, this was officially the strangest dream she’d ever had.

And the fact that she was able to think about it being a dream meant that it wasn’t a dream at all. Weren’t you supposed to wake up once you realized you were dreaming? And weren’t you supposed to be able to influence your own dream, once you realized it was a dream?

Yet here she was, unable to even make herself heard.

There was Lucifer, immersed in the crowd, drinking and snogging right and left, like he had at his lowest points, before they had found each other. As Chloe drifted closer to him, unnoticed by the club-goers, she became aware of the frantic intensity he exuded. His eyes were fever-bright, still rimmed in black, his movements abrupt and thready. This was a drowning man desperately reaching for something, anything, to save him.

She hovered right before him now, but he looked straight through her, unable to see her.  _ Lucifer, _ she tried yet again to reach him,  _ I love you. I would never do that to you. You know that, right? You know that I would never hurt you like this. It’s not real! _

He didn’t respond, and again, the scene changed.

It was night. Lucifer was in his penthouse, alone, standing on his balcony. His shoulders were slumped, his shirt open at the neck and wrinkled, his head bowed, his hair in complete disarray. He was holding an empty shot glass in one hand. His wings were out, half dragging on the floor, and Chloe would have gasped at the sight of them if she had a body. All the feathers were spiky and rough, dirty, some of them sticking out of alignment. They had clearly not been groomed in ages. One of the primaries was broken.

She doubted he would be able to fly like this.

The need to help him became overwhelming. If only she could touch him, take him in her arms, caress him, let him know how much she loved him and that she would never abandon him like this, especially since she knew how much he loved her, and how it was her deepest desire to be there for him in whatever way he needed her --

_ But he doesn’t know that, _ she realized.

His desires power didn’t work on her.

With every other human he encountered, he would know what they desired, what they needed, without doubt. They couldn’t lie to the Devil. Whenever they told him their innermost thoughts, he could believe them, trust their words, without question.

With Chloe, he couldn’t.

He raised his head, looking up at the sky, his face a grimace of despair. His eyes briefly flickered red fire. Abruptly, with a mighty effort, he threw the glass in his hand away, out into the night, and then he screamed. A loud, agonized scream with the full power of his lungs behind it, sustained for longer and with more harmonics than a human would have been capable of.

The cry pierced Chloe to her quick. Again, she tried to reach him, but even floating right in front of him, close enough to see every detail of his ravaged features and flickering face as his glamour began to fail with the force of his torment, she couldn’t touch him, couldn’t make herself heard.

The world dissolved.

Chloe found herself in her own bed, trembling, face streaked with tears.

Awake at last.

She gasped, trying to catch her breath, to shake off the remnants of the dream, but it clung to her like glue.

_ It didn’t happen, _ she told herself. _ It was just a dream. Just a dream. He’s fine. He’s okay. _

It was still dark.

She switched on her bedside lamp, summoning light to dispel the darkness and finding the bed next to her empty. It was one of the rare nights when they didn’t sleep together. Lucifer was probably in Lux, catering to his adoring public.

It had just been a dream, but no matter how often she told herself that, the need to know that he was truly okay didn’t ease. After a minute, she gave up, grabbed her cell, and typed,

_ I need to see you _

The reply came fifteen seconds after she’d hit “send”.

_ Is everything alright? _

_ im fine, _ she typed,  _ i just need to see you _

_ I’ll be right there _

She grabbed her pillow to hug it to herself, trying to finally get her breathing under control. The sight of him in her dream, so distraught and ravaged with loss, seemed to hover behind her eyelids to be there whenever she closed her eyes, so she stared ahead, keeping them open, just focusing on her breathing.

Not even a minute later, she heard him come up the stairs. He must have flown, which should have eased one worry. Her bedroom door opened, and the sight of him, healthy and beautiful, should have eased another.

It didn’t.

He looked at her, worry creasing his features. “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head, wordlessly reaching out her arms towards him.

He came into them readily, and only when she could wrap her arms around him and feel his warmth against her did the knot of pain in her chest begin to dissolve.

The worst of it had been being unable to touch him.

“What’s wrong, Chloe?” he asked again, holding her close.

“It’s stupid,” she said against his neck. “I just… had a dream.”

He pulled back to look at her. “That must have been some dream.” His hand brushed at the moisture on her cheek, tucking a strand of hair away and behind her ear. “I’ve rarely seen you so upset, my love.”

She pulled him down onto the bed to be able to be even closer to him. “Let me see your wings, please,” she said softly, feeling only slightly silly.

He looked at her, and whatever he saw in her face made him comply without question.

They were pristine and smooth, the feathers perfectly aligned and ready for flight, and Chloe felt herself shiver with reaction. It hadn’t been real. She hadn’t pushed him away. He was alright, and happy. It hadn’t happened.

It hadn’t happened. But it might happen. If she didn’t take care to prevent it, it might yet happen.

It hadn’t been a dream, she realized with sudden clarity. It had been a message.

Tears spilling again, she wrapped her arms around her beloved Devil, burying her hands in the warm down feathers on his back where his wings joined his body, and simply held on.

_ It won’t ever happen, _ she swore silently.  _ Don’t worry, I will never do that to Your son. I could never hurt him like this. Especially now that I know what it would do to him. _

His arms went around her; she felt his lips in her hair as he hummed softly, trying to reassure her. Long minutes passed as she ran her hands up and down his back, into his feathers, into his hair, down his face, unable to stop touching him.

“Want to chat about it?” he finally asked hesitantly.

She pulled back, wiping her eyes. “I think your Father just gave me The Talk,” she said, trying to make light of it.

That confused him. “What?”

“You know. ‘Don’t you dare hurt my son, or else’.”

The look of confusion in his eyes deepened.

“That was the strangest dream I ever had, which is why I don’t think it was a dream. I can still remember every detail, for one thing.”

“So you, what, think it was a vision from Dad?”

She put her arms back around him, still needing to feel him. “Hmhm. He showed me what would happen to you if I… broke up with you.” Her throat nearly closed at those words.

He threw a look at the ceiling. “Really, Dad.”

“It was… unsettling.” She reared back again to frame his face in her hands and look into his eyes. “None of it will never happen, okay?”

“I know,” he said, not looking away.

She remembered the epiphany she’d had. “Do you, though, really?”

He blinked, but he couldn’t lie. “Well, I know none of us can foresee the future. Even Dad can only project probabilities.”

Like his brother Uriel, whom he’d killed to protect her.

So, the future she’d seen in her dream might be one of those probabilities. A future in which she’d rejected the Devil. A future she’d do her damndest to prevent happening.

Chloe kept her gaze on him. “Do you ever regret that your powers don’t work on me?” she asked intently.

“No,” he said immediately. “You’re your own woman, as you should be, free from my charm.”

“But you don’t really know my deepest desires. You don’t even know if I’m telling the truth when I tell you.”

She felt his hands mirror the position of hers as he framed her face, struck again by how warm his body was. “I don’t need my powers to know that you’re good, Chloe. You wouldn’t lie to me about something like that.” He grinned suddenly, looking oddly proud. “But you’re not above the occasional white lie, either.”

She smiled through her turmoil. “Still. I want you to know, to really know without a doubt. Please. Tell me what I can do to make you sure about this.” _ I don’t ever want to see you like that. It’s not right that I should be the one capable of rendering you so broken, so hurt. I want you to know in your heart that it will never happen. _

He still didn’t look away, his eyes going wide and his expression open. “Just stay with me. And maybe…” He trailed off.

“Yes…?”

“Maybe, every once in a while, tell me we’re okay.”

She nodded, fighting back more tears. “Communicate. Hmhm. Got it.”

He smiled, catching an tear on his finger tip. “Should be easy to do.”

She wasn’t so sure about that. It was hard enough for humans. The potential for misunderstandings seemed to be so much greater between human and Celestial.

Maybe, she thought, maybe, after all this time of teaching Lucifer about living among humanity, it was time for Chloe to learn the finer points about living with a Celestial.

“How do I do that?” she asked. “Let you know we’re okay, I mean.”

He blinked, then adjusted his position to hold her, his large hands cradling her shoulders, resting his forehead against hers and mantling his wings around them both.

She didn’t have wings to return this hug, but her hands went back into his plumage automatically, and he sighed.

“This seems fine,” he said softly, relaxing as he gazed at her face, fairly drinking her in, his eyes like dark liquid pools, placid and unfathomable.

She held on, moving forward a little to kiss his face. This kind of touching was a human thing, and one she needed and didn’t want to do without.

Being held like this, though, with Lucifer’s face and eyes and the minute changes in his expression plain to see, she thought she was beginning to understand the Celestials’ general confusion about the human kind of hugs, why they seemed so unused to them. They didn’t hug, as a rule. A hug hides your face, your expression, and thus your intentions. You can hug someone and stab them in the back the next instant. Being able to see the other one’s face and showing one’s own at the same time was a declaration of both trust and faith.

Moving back, she let him see her face again, and was rewarded with a soft smile.

“Better?” he asked.

She drew a deep breath, found it was almost easy by now. “Yeah. Sorry.”

“For what?”

“For dragging you away from your night job because of a stupid dream.”

He smiled. “Most humans have handled getting visions from God much worse than this. You’re certainly entitled to being a little freaked out.” His tongue poked the inside of his cheek. “You’re welcome to try and make it up to me, though.”

Her laugh exploded out of her, and his smile widened.

Wings rustling, he moved them closer around them, surrounding them both with his angelic grace. The last lingering traces of the dream faded. In their place, Chloe felt relaxation and sudden exhaustion hit her.

She yawned. “First thing in the morning, my insatiable Lord of Darkness. Right now, though, I’d just like to sleep for what’s left of the night.” She patted the bed next to her. “Stay?”

He kicked off his shoes by way of response, and five minutes later, Chloe felt herself drift off, secure in the Devil’s arms, and no more visions disturbed her rest.


End file.
